


When life gives you lemons, take the lemons and be grateful you got anything

by Polyhexian



Series: Live Every Day Like Your Mom Said it Was Alright [14]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, but by god y'all wanted a waspinator fic and you're getting a a waspinator fic, there are a LOT of z's in this fic, third person, this is set immediately after the previous fic in the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: Waspinator wakes up and gets ready for another day running Maccadam's New Old Oil House. Only, everyone is being super weird today for some reason.
Series: Live Every Day Like Your Mom Said it Was Alright [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596922
Comments: 15
Kudos: 120





	When life gives you lemons, take the lemons and be grateful you got anything

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO again everyone, I think the number one requested thing I've heard related to this series was more waspinator content. So here is the boy.
> 
> Also, I reordered the fics in the series to be chronological.

Waspinator woke with his alarm, stretching out his many limbs in as many directions to work the kinks out of his chitinous frame, platelets reverberating as he did so. He shook off the haze of sleepiness and clambered out of the cell on the wall he had layered with blankets into an especially cozy nest for recharging, transforming into his root mode before he landed on the floor with a thump. 

His habblock was fairly simple, just the main room and the bedroom, but he had spent quite a bit of time retrofitting the Cybe-standard living space into one more fit for his alt mode, utilizing the wall space more effectively and comfortably. He didn't actually spend that much time here, though, all things considered- most of his waking hours were spent working the bar. It was even rarer to have anyone else over here. 

He brewed himself a cup of warm energon to help jumpstart his systems for the day and flush out the old fluids chugging lazily through his lines, flipping on the news while he settled into another pile of blankets that had once been on the couch. 

Waspinator pulled his four way split mouth into a four-way split frown as the reporter on the holovid screen informed him another Eukarian demonstration was facing down protesters in central Iacon. These things were beginning to get out of hand, and Waspinator suspected most of the Cybes out protesting against the demonstrators were just tired of peace time and wanted any excuse to get in another fight. He found the whole thing very frustrating, because obviously, the Eukarians were right in asserting they weren't being treated the same as Cybertronian Transformers. He had a beast mode, even if he was a true Cybe himself, and he was deeply aware of the social class he had been forged into. Waspinator flipped the vidscreen over to cartoons instead while he finished his morning brew.

When he finished his glass and threw it into the sink, where it shattered, the sun was just beginning to peak over the glimmering steel horizon of East Iacon, and Waspinator indulged in a quick solvent shower before heading out to open the bar for the early crowd, the old timers with nowhere else to spend their time during the day and a functioning inability to sleep past dawn, war or no war.

He was surprised to find a familiar, scowling blue catformer sitting in front of the plywood covered front of Maccadam's New Old Oil House when he arrived. 

"You are here," she said, holding her chin loftily as she rose to her paws, "Good."

"Yezz," Waspinator said, cocking his head to the side at her in confusion- Howlback only ever came by every other Tuesday for Beastformer night, and she never even seemed happy to be there, "Wazzpinator work here."

"Glit told me you have been experiencing trouble in light of the Eukarian demonstrations," she said, nodding backwards toward the plywood that covered the broken glass front of the building, "That someone shot your front windows out yesterday."

"Izz third window thizz week actually," Waspinator told her, "But firzzt time was actually Wazzpinator fault, zzo doezz not count."

"Hm," she huffed, stepping aside so he could unlock the front door, "That is still far too frequent."

"Could be worzze," Waspinator shrugged, turning on the lights.

"It will not be," she said firmly, "Until things calm down, I will be running security here to ensure there will be no more incidents like yesterday's."

Waspinator blinked at her. "Why?"

This seemed to stop her assertive demeanor for the first time, and she squinted at him, "What do you mean why?"

"Why kittygirl do thizz?" Waspinator asked, looking down at her where she stood, lingering in the doorway, "Wazzpinator know what Howlback chargezz for zzervizzezz. Wazzpinator cannot pay thizz."

"Consider it community service," she said, regaining her full composure, "Maccadam's is a bastion of civility in a sea of social turmoil, and I would like to enjoy a saucer of nightmare fuel in peace once in awhile." 

"Wazzpinator zztill do not underzztand. Izz there trick?" He asked, scratching his head, "Wazzpinator not very bright, not very good at working out trickzz. If kittygirl want zzomething from Wazzpinator, zzhe muzzt zzay what it izz."

Howlback gave him a long, hard, uncomfortable stare that Waspinator could in no way parse the purpose of before she spoke again. "I want you to have a nice day, Waspinator," she said, with an air of finality to it, before she turned and went back outside, shutting the door behind her.

Waspinator continued to scratch his head, uncertain what that had been about. Eventually he decided he wasn't going to get it, and if she was trying to get something from him, she'd get it sooner or later and he would have very little to say about it, so it wasn't much worth worrying about. He went about flipping all the chairs off the tables and activating the serving drones before opening officially. 

It felt unnaturally dim inside with the windows blown out, but the replacement wasn't going to be there until that afternoon, and he dug out the hand painted sign he had made earlier in the week stating that they were, in fact, open, before going outside to tack it up onto the plywood. Howlback was sitting out front, as rigid as a statue.

"Hello again kittygirl!" he buzzed to her jovially, as he noticed what a nice day it was now that the sun was up. It had been drizzling acid rain yesterday, but today the clouds had parted to reveal blue skies and a pleasant warm breeze. The hustle and bustle in the plaza and at the subway stop across the street was beginning to buzz with life and she nodded briskly at him. 

"Hello again, Waspinator." 

"Oh, look," said Waspinator, brightening even more as he finished tacking the sign up, "Whirl izz back!" 

"Is he a regular?" Howlback asked, voice low.

"Yezz," Waspinator confirmed with a chipper nod, "Whirl izz very good friend. Uzzually he only come by in eveningzz, though."

"Morning, 'Nators," Whirl said with a wave of one skeletonized arm, "and, uh, cat guy I don't know."

"Girl," she said, dryly.

"Oh, shit, my b," said Whirl, trotting up the stairs, "You Eukarian?"

"No," she said, "ID, please."

"Uh. What?" Whirl balked.

"What?" repeated Waspinator.

"No entry without identification," Howlback said, "You are aware, I am sure, that Maccadam's has been a target during this time of civil unrest."

"Uh, yeah, it was me and my kids gettin' shot at yesterday," Whirl said, sounding annoyed, "Like, you know who I am, Waspinator. Did you hire her?" 

"Wazzpinator think he did," Waspinator said, tapping his mandible, "Kittygirl really think izz nezzezzary?" 

"Waspinator, you know you can't say words like necessary-" Whirl began, but Howlback ignored him.

"I have been doing this kind of work for a very, very long time," she said firmly, "It is not so inconvenient a request."

"Hmm," Waspinator blinked, "Okay." 

"Ugh," groaned Whirl, "Fine, scan the Autobrand," he said, leaning down.

"Thank you," she said, primly, reading it with a palm scanner. She sat back down, reading a holo display of personal data. "You have a long criminal record, Autobot Whirl. Try to stay out of trouble today."

"Uh," he said, "Okay."

Waspinator and Whirl went back inside, shutting the door behind them.

"What is up with that?" Whirl asked, jabbing a claw towards the door, "Who is that?"

"Kittygirl izz named Howlback," Waspinator told his favourite customer, "Izz old war cazzeticon. DJD rezzerve. Zzhe zzhowed up thizz morning and zzaid zzhe wazz in charge of zzecurity now."

"That is… bizarre," Whirl said, squinting his single optic at the door as if he could see through the plywood and into the brain of the bar's strange new bouncer if he focused hard enough. 

"Friend Whirl not uzzually at Wazzpinator bar zzo early!" Waspinator tittered, "What izz occazzion?"

"Huh? Oh, I just finished dropping the kid off at the earthbridge," he said, following Waspinator over to the bar and collapsing into his favourite seat with a thump, "Figured I would come by and check on you."

"On Wazzpinator?" Waspinator blinked, as he started opening up the bar for the day, "Why?"

Whirl squinted at him, "Because you got shot in the chest yesterday."

"Only in zzhoulder," Waspinator corrected.

"You get patched up okay then? Oh, can I get one of those fruity things, while you're pulling those out?" Whirl pointed at the flavour stim packs Waspinator was pulling out from under the counter to drop into the countertop freezer.

"Of course," Waspinator hummed, "Zzkye-Byte or a virgin Blurr?" 

"Sky-Byte," Whirl confirmed.

"One Zzkye-Byte, coming up!" Waspinator said, plucking a blue stim pack from the bunch and turning back towards the wall counter and the ice mixer, "And yezz, Wazzpinator patch up hole okie dokie." 

"Do it yourself, eh?" Whirl inquired, sounding impressed. 

"Wazzpinator chazzis izz very uncommon, pzzeudo-techno organic build, every time Wazzpinator go to medic, they have to Google how to fix. Wazzpinator get good at hizz own repairzz." Waspinator nodded sharply, pouring the stim pack over cubes of frozen energon and mixing it with a rust stick. "Lotzz of practizze."

"Hmm," Whirl hummed, "Fair enough. I gotta pop off to Drift's after this and get the rest of my armour refitted, I ain't been able to transform since yesterday and it's been a total bummer."

"Bleh," said Waspinator, handing him his drink, "Wazzpinator would hate to be monoformer."

"Tell me about it," Whirl said, tipping back his drink. "Who's goin' up on the specials board today, eh?" 

"Hrrm," buzzed Waspinator, fluttering his wings in thought as he regarded the wiped down chalkboard behind the bar, "Zzuggezztionzz?"

"What have I told you about words with three or more s's in 'em, eh?" Whirl grumbled, "How 'bout Blurr, Starscream, and Chop Shop?"

"Ooh, Chop Zzhop, very adventurous," Waspinator chuckled, as he grabbed a bit of chalk to add the names up to the specials board and a short description beneath.

"Eh, it was a good one. Burny," Whirl nodded.

"Blurr-" the board began, "Triple processed engex run through a cesium filter - tastes like your favourite energy drink, sure to get you drunk absurdly fast. Starscream - unfiltered Nightmare Fuel. Not always pleasant, but it gets the job done."

"They fixin' that glass today?" Whirl asked, nodding toward the wall.

"That izz plan," Waspinator confirmed, finishing the board, "Hopefully no one zzhootzz it again."

"Hopefully," Whirl sighed, and set his empty glass down. "I gotta head out. I just wanted to check in on you, buddy. Don't get killed today, yeah? I don't want to have to start drinkin' again so I can make a good mixer to put your name on, huh?"

"Wazzpinator will do hizz bezzt not to die!" Waspinator beamed, waving as Whirl stood up and made his way back outside.

He finished cleaning up as the usual morning crowd filtered in, all complaining under their breath about the new bouncer. Sandstorm took over his favourite barstool and immediately fell asleep, the Tankors took over the karaoke booth, and the unlikely Nautica took up her tidy back booth where she liked to drink, write, and generally not be bothered too much. The regulars. 

He let the Tankors handle music for the morning while he set about cleaning out the oven like he'd been meaning to, scrubbing down the full inside of all the black gunk that clung deep into the seam lines of the corners. He didn't use it terrible often, just for melting a few simple metals he liked to mix in now and again, which made it an easy chore to procrastinate on.

Around noon he heard the door open and popped back up to wave hello to whoever had entered. Drift had returned, trailed along by Rodimus, two people he generally only saw when Whirl or the other Whirl threw a party. He was happy to see them again, though, as they always bought something and seemed nice enough. Waspinator liked most people, honestly. 

"Hello, Autobotzz!" Waspinator chirped, bouncing on his heels, "Welcome back to Wazzpinator bar!"

"Hello again, Waspinator," Drift said, pleasantly, sitting down across from Waspinator at the bar, "were you aware your new bouncer is an ex DJD reservist?"

"Yezz."

"Oh. Well, Whirl came by the clinic today to refit his armour, and told me that you had done your own repairs-"

"Whirl was here?" Sandstorm blurted out as he picked his head up from the bar, the first time he had spoken since he arrived, "Did I miss him?"

"Yezz, you mizzed him," Waspinator said, and Sandstorm whined, putting his head back down, "Yezz, I did. Izz all better now! Zzee?" Waspinator flexed his arm that he had been shot in, showing that he had a full range of motion. Drift watched it move with his optic ridges furrowed together in concern.

"Would you mind if I took a look anyway?" Drift asked, "When was the last time you went to a medic?"

"Hrrm," Waspinator said, peering upward in thought, "Wazzpinator not zzure. When Wazzpinator get zztabbed in Cryzztal zzity maybe?"

Drift paled, "Waspinator, that was _years_ ago!" 

Waspinator shrugged, "Wazzpinator not die zzinzze then, zzo muzzt be okay," he argued, but he climbed over the bar and sat down on one of the bar stools anyway, ever accommodating. 

Drift leaned in and inspected Waspinator's shoulder weld carefully, while Rodimus sat down behind him on a stool. 

"Did you hear back about the shooters yesterday?" Rodimus asked.

"They were arrezzted," Waspinator told him, staring down at Drift as he went over the pistons under his chitin plating, "But different from zzhooterzz earlier thizz week." 

"Is it an organized thing?" Rodimus asked, "Because if it is, we'll figure out who's behind it."

Waspinator looked up and tilted his head at him, "No, izz juzzt very angry people. Zzybertonianzz have alwayzz hated beazztformerzz, izz not new thing."

Rodimus grimaced, "Well that's about the saddest thing that ever got said. If there's anything we can do to help, let somebody know, okay?" 

Waspinator squinted at him, "Why?"

"So we can help, duh," replied Rodimus with a startled laugh, "like, do you want someone to walk you home, or something? Do you feel safe getting there on your own?"

Waspinator stared at him, "Wazzpinator alwayzz carry gun," he said, blankly.

"You did a really good job," Drift said, interrupting the conversation, "but these old weld scars stiffen- they become brittle over time and you run a really serious risk of breakage under pressure. I think you should really consider a proper refit- your protoform has been put under what I can only posit is an _inordinate_ amount of stress, and I would bet my left headlight that it's severely affected your carrying capacity." 

"Huh?" said Waspinator, staring down at his arm as if he had never seen it before, "Autobot really think zzo?"

"I really think so. Do you ever close the bar? You can come in any time you're free- I know you're built completely out of nonstandard parts, which means it's going to take longer than usual to make new parts from scratch, and I'm really sorry about that, but it will be worth it, I'm sure."

Waspinator looked up at the ex-Decepticon and stared at him, optics searching his painted faceplate for the trick. "Why?"

"Because I worry about anyone who hasn't seen a medic in so long," Drift said, blinking.

"What doezz Autobotzz want in exchange?" Waspinator asked, shaking his shoulder free, "Wazzpinator only make average income." 

"I run a free clinic, Waspinator."

"But what doezz Autobot _want_ ?" Waspinator pressed, "What doezz _kittygirl_ want? What doezz friend Whirl want?? Why izz everyone azzking Wazzpinator if he okay today??"

Drift and Rodimus both stared at him for a moment, stunned. 

"Because you've been shot at twice in a week," said Drift, as if that were an obvious explanation, "And that's terrible, and everyone is worried about you."

"Wazzpinator can handle thizz," Waspinator said, waving one clawed hand in the air, frustrated, "Everyone hazz handled many worzze thingzz many timezz. Izz nothing. Wazzpinator doezz not like open ended dealzz."

"It's not an open ended deal, Waspinator- I'm genuinely concerned for your health and just want to offer my help." 

"But why to _Wazzpinator_?" Waspinator demanded.

"Why… not? To Waspinator?" asked a baffled Drift. 

"Becauzze no one _ever_ help Wazzpinator!" Waspinator cried, "Izz not normal! Wazzpinator alwayzz fend for himzzelf, why zzuddenly people care?" 

"I _told_ you," said a voice from the doorway, as Howlback opened the front door and trotted in, having clearly been eavesdropping, "Your bar is a bastion of civility in a sea of social turmoil."

"Wazzpinator doezz not know what that meanzz."

"She's trying to say that most people are bastards," sniffed Sandstorm, rolling his head to the side, "and you ain't."

"I'm sure that means a lot coming from a serial killer," said Howlback, dryly. 

"You are _literally_ a DJD reservist," Sandstorm shot back with a scowl. 

"I do not see your point."

"The _point_ is," interrupted Rodimus, noticing Waspinator was starting to become extremely frazzled looking, "the war is over, people are trying to be happy again, and you're nice to everybody, Waspinator. You got a lot of friends."

"Oh," said Waspinator, dumbly. 

"Yeah, man, you need help with anything, I'll get off my aft in a sparkbeat," sighed Sandstorm, "you want help closing up tonight? Doing dishes? I already practically live here, I might as well lend you a hand, huh?" 

"Black Cat and Stripes already informed me they will be here for the evening service to help with security," Howlback nodded, "That is no longer something you need to worry about."

"And I'll make sure you get a proper tune up for once, yeah?" finished Drift with a smile, "How about it, huh?"

Waspinator blinked several times, internalizing and processing the information, before he beamed again. "Thank you, Wazzpinator-friendzz!"


End file.
